Belle: The Murderous Pirate
by Lella Reincarnated
Summary: Belle kills the Beast and others, is represented in court by Captain Jack Sparrow, and becomes a pirate.
1. Eno Retpahc

I march down the stairs to meet him. The Beast. I can control my anger.

"What do you want?" I yell.

The Beast takes a step back, as he does everytime I get mad at him. He fumbles with his fingers before saying, "I... I was wondering if you were ready to go to the opera."

"Damnit, Beast!" I scream at him, "I told you that I wasn't going to go to some fancy opera tonight!"

He fumbles with his fingers again and pulls out two golden tickets, "But I paid so much for them..."

"Then go take that neighbor girl that I see you spying on all the time!"

"Hey!" he yells, taking a step forward to put a finger in my face, "That is NOT spying!"

"Then what is it?" I ask with my hands on my hips. This really isn't going anywhere.

He takes a moment to think about it. "It's watching. I watch her."

"You watch her," I say skeptically.

"Yes. For her... protection, yes? Yes. To make sure that... robbers... don't come into her house."

"Oh, you're so full of it!" I yell, and suddenly I push him in the chest. He loses his balance and I start to laugh, but then he looks like he's actually going to fall. And there is a large staircase behind him. All of the sudden, I see my hands fly out and push him again.

In a second, Beast is toppling down the staircase, and is lifeless at the bottom.

"What did I just do?" I ask myself allowed. "Did I just kill the Beast?"

Mrs. Potts suddenly runs out of some random door, "What's all the noise about?!" She's nervous. She peers over the edge of the stairs and sees the Beast. A scream releases itself from her mouth. My hands suddenly pick her up and throw her across the room. She shatters into a thousand peices.

"Oh my God! Did I just kill Mrs. Potts, too?!" I can't believe what I've done, but realization takes over. Not only have I just killed two people, but I've also just inherited a giant mansion. I'm quickly invisioning having my own reality show here. That might be a possibility if I can clear the evidence.

I run to the cleaning supplies to sweep up Mrs. Potts. I throw the peices away in the old trashcan (which is also alive; I"ll have to do something about that), and look over to the Beast. I'm not really sure how I'm going to do this. I try pulling him across the room to the door thinking that I might be able to dump him in the snow. For some odd reason, there's always snow here, so it's not like anyone will find him under all of that icky white stuff. I decide against it, though.

I look through a phone book until I find a company that promises to take trash away, no questions asked. Though a bit shady, I think that this will work. I call them up (using a phone which, damnit, is also alive).

"Hello, trashman Ernie speaking. How may I help you?" it picks up.

"Hi..." I begin, unsure of what to say, "We..." What am I going to say? "Um, we had a weird and highly dangerous animal attack the house. I killed it. Can you pick it up?"

"Sure, whatever, we'll be over in an hour," the voice says unenthusiastically.

I hang up the phone, then proceed to unplug it. The phone does a squeal and asks what I'm doing, but I continue. I then throw it across the floor and throw the peices into that trashcan. I think I'll give that trashcan to those people, too, so I drag it out by the Beast. Well, that's four people for the day. Let's hope that nobody asks any more questions.

I walk back inside, and Clogsworth, the clock, is standing there.

"What?" I ask. I must look suspicious, because he walks up to me and asks if everything is alright.

"Yes, yes. Um, everything's fine," I lie. I think I might have to kill him, too.

"Really? Because I've been hearing some weird noises."

"It's just your imagination," I say. Then, I pick him up.

"Where on Earth are you taking me?!" he yells. I take him outside, he sees the Beast, and I hold onto him tightly.

"What did you do to the Beast?!" he screams in shock. I run to the opposite side of the mansion, where we (ironically) have a catapult. I place him inside of it, press the button, and watch him fly across the sky. When I hear a minature explosion from about a mile away, I figure that I won't have to worry about him again. Well, that's five, now.

After about an hour or so, the trash company comes and takes the Beast and trashcan away, no questions asked. Now, a little less nervous, I sell the opera tickets on EBay, grab some Cheezits, and sit down to watch some television.

I've been watching America's Next Top Model for about ten minutes when I hear a knock on the door. I open up to see two detectives and a policeman at the door. I open and give a curtsy.

"May I help you?" I ask in my sweetest voice. The detectives and the policeman come right on in and take off their hats.

"Ma'am, word has come to us that there was a murder commited in this house," the tall detective says. The shorter and more round one starts helping the policeman get gear together--probably to start searching the house for evidence.

"A murder?" I ask while walking up to him in a way beyond classy.

He loosens his tie, "Yes, a murder...was reported." He pulls out a notebook to break the closeness that I am to him. "Name of the deceased: Beast; male; 21 years of age. Do you know him?"

I make up a lie on the spot, "No! He lives across the street. They've been denying for years that he lives with them." I put my hand up to my mouth like it's a secret between us two, "He and the girl there are _close_. He's been living there for a long while."

"Ah..." the detective says, writing down notes of what I've said. "In that case, we'll carry on our investigation there."

"Um, okay. Your welcome?" Suddenly, they're out of the door and across the street. I turn around, feeling pretty proud of myself, only to see the dresser there, with a tear in her eye.

"Uh, hi?" I say.

"You... You killed the Beast," she whimpers.

"Yeah, it happens," I say, nonchalantly.

She slaps me across the face and yells, "I'm taking you to court about this!"

"Well then," I say, knowing good-and-well that it'll be rather hard to kill her, "I'll go find a good defense attorney."

"You better!" she then turns around and runs away crying. I look back through the phonebook until I find an attorney that looks interesting. I grab my cell phone and call the number.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"'Ello?" the voice says.

"Hi. I murdered a guy. I need someone good."

"I can help you with that! The name's Cap'n Jack Sparrow, best lawyer, attorney, and anything else you may want, in the state!" he says.

"Hey, aren't you a pirate?" I remember the name from somewhere.

He pauses before answering, "No..."

"Oh, well then. Can you come over?"

"I'll be there before you can hang up the phone!"

"Um, oka--"

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. I hang up the phone and place it on the counter before answering. I open the door, and my God! There's a pirate infront of me! He looks me up and down and shrugs, as if to say that he's done okay with choosing to represent me.

I can't believe what I've just gotten myself into.


	2. Owt Retpahc

**Belle: The Murdurous Pirate  
Part 2**

"You lied to me!" I yell at the pirate who's standing infront of me. He pushes me aside to walk into the mansion.

"What did I lie about?" he asks smugly while sitting on a sofa. His muddy shoes are touching a throw pillow. Don't tell me that I'll have to kill him, too.

"You told me over the phone that you weren't a pirate," I say with my arms folded.

"Ah, that. Well, I'm a retired pirate, but since I'm not a current pirate, it would not be lying for me to say that I am a pirate since that is a former proffesion. Thus, I'd actually be lying to say that I was a pirate because I no-longer am. And becaue I'm now a lawyer and an attorney and not a pirate, I can be your lawyer... and... not a pirate. Savvy?" I stare at him until he must know that I think he's a total idiot. He gets up and throws an arm around my waist, "So what did you do, that you would need _me_ for?"

I slip our of his grip and walk into the kitchen, him following behind. "I killed the beast."

He stares at me and cocks his head to the side.

"Um, here," I pull out a picture of myself standing next to the beast at the theatre that we had visited the month before. Jack stares at the picture and makes a face of dissaproval.

"Eh. Beast. You may not even need me for this."

"What?" I'm completely confussed by him.

"Well, if you were fighting something like that, anyone will believe that it was self-defense. Which it was, right?" he asks. I twirl my hair with my finger, and he seems to get it.

"Don't tell me," he says in shock, "that you and..." He points to the picture, "...were..."

"He was my husband," I say as he nearly throws up in his mouth. Maybe I should have showed a picture that didn't indicate our status.

"That's just disgusting," he says before turning away. "So it wasn't self-defense at all? Not even a little?"

"No," I begin, "he was annoying me, I pushed him down the steps, he died, I had his body taken away by a trash service. I killed all but one witness--"

"Wait! You killed others?!" he yells at me while grabbing the cooking knives and throwing them away in a new trashcan (that's not alive).

"Oh, I'm not going to kill you!" I yell angrily, while stopping him, "If you represent me, you'll have nothing to worry about."

"My friend, Davy Jones, would like someone like you on his ship. Have you ever thought of a new role of employment?"

"No." I give him an evil glare to put him back in his place. He takes the hint and sits down in a chair across from where I'm standing.

All business, he asks, "Who else did you kill, do they matter, and what's your story?"

I take a moment to think, "I killed the trashcan, a tea pot, a clock, and maybe some other things. I don't really remember." He nods me on. Maybe he's too drunk to realize that none of this makes sense. I continue anyway, "Nobody knows about them except the one witness--the dresser. I don't think that we have to worry about her, though. Nobody in court will believe that those... things... that I killed were actually alive."

"Okay, so that's settled. Now, what's the story for it all?"

"My story..." I say to myself. "Self defense. You said that it would work, right?"

"Probably," he says non-chalantly, placing his still muddy boots onto my counter. That's really getting annoying.

"I'll say that he was trying to attack me, I managed to push him, he fell down the stairs..." I pause. There's a flaw with the story. "They'll ask me about what happened to the body."

"Eh... Do you have wolves in these parts?"

"Yes, but what does that--" he inturupts me.

"Say that a pack of wolves came in and ate him."

"Will anyone believe that?" I ask. I don't think that that could ever happen.

"I've seen it before," he smiles. "Well, kind of. It was more wet, and it involved sharks. But, same concept."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. So, wolves came in to eat the body..."

"Um, someone called the cops," I say, trying to make this all work, "but it was too late, I got nervous, and I told them that it was untrue. Can I say that?"

"Sure," he says.

"Then I called a lawyer because someone had blamed me of murder."

"Who _is_ this someone?"

"The dresser, remember?"

"Ah, yes! The dresser, the dresser. How could I forget?"

"How could you remember? How much have you had to drink today?"

Jack stands up and shakes his finger at me, "I've barely had any at'all!" He then pauses and looks over to the fridge, "do you have any rum?"

I roll my eyes and move out of the way of the fridge so that he can drink down a bottle of champagne and a cup of rum. How he does that, I'm not really sure, but it's pretty much disgusting.

"So..." I say.

"So?" He looks at me with a bottle to his mouth.

"So. When do we go to court?" I ask, throwing my arms in the air since I've lost my patience intirely.

"I can probably put us in for tomorrow," he says before finishing off a slice of cake that's in the fridge, too.

"Really?!" That's one peice of good news.

"Yeah. Let me go talk to the dresser, I'll tell her everything, we'll get into court tomorrow, and this will all be settled down and rummy."

"Rummy? Is that even a word?"

He shrugs his shoulders and walks off to go talk to the dresser.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow this will all be finished up with. Tomorrow, I can start making an idea with Fox about a new reality show. Maybe something along the lines of the Bachelorette. Who knows.


	3. Eerht Retpahc

Belle: The Murderous Pirate

Part 3

The trial comes much too soon, even though it _is_ only the next morning. I sling my usual get up on and nearly run down the stairs to meet with Jack, who, please let it be true, knows something about the way the American Court System works.

At the bottom of the stairs, I meet Jack, Dresser, and her average-looking attorney. The attorney is looking quite annoyed with Jack, and he turns to me to see if I'm any better than Jack. The look on his face proves that he is confused to see me there.

"What else were you expecting?" I ask him, knowing that he probably thought some drunken truck-driver was going to be against him.

He coughs and shakes his head. Hands out to shake Jack's and mine, he says, "I hope that this can be a fair trial. Good luck."

And, with that, he turns with the dresser to leave. I can hear Jack mutter something under his breath about how playing fair was for girls and William Turner—whom he also mentioned to be a girl in disguise.

"Shall we?" he asks, opening his arm for me as if a gentleman.

I give him the stink eye and push ahead of him. "Yeah, no. Stop trying."

"You're mean."

"You smell," I remark, noting that it is actually true, even though I said it just for a comeback.

After a miserable car ride with Jack telling me daring stories of monsters, ghosts, and pirates alike, we make it to the county court, and I suddenly realize why we have gotten in on one day's notice. It's a shack. Quite literally, there might as well not be a court house in this little town. I bet the judge has never had a case before now.

The dresser stares over at me from the stairs leading into the court house, and I begin thinking about pushing her, but realize that it's probably not such a good idea.

Upon entering the court room, the judge is seated directly in front of me, along with the jury and practically everyone in town. Just my luck, eh?

"All rise for the honorable Judge Turhoße...who is actually already here," a voice calls, and I find that Jack is ushering me to my seat at the witness stand.

"Ms. Belle," Turhoße says, turning to face me. "This court will not be conventional, I warn you, but you do swear to tell the truth and what not, correct?"

"Yes," I say.

"Good. Makes my job easier!" He smiles and turns to Jack. "She's your witness."

"Thanks!" he says, jumping over a table to get to me, his boots dripping mud on the wooden floor.

"Belle," he begins, "Where were you on the night of January 6th?"

I furrow my eyebrows in wonder. What does that have to do with anything? "I was sleeping...?" That night has nothing to do with the murder, which was on August 23rd. AKA; Yesturday.

"As you can see," Jack says, "She is a sensible person, who sleeps, eats, and does not kill people. Belle, what happened between you and the beast?"

Finally, something that makes some more sense. "Well, he attacked me, I pushed him. It all happened so fast!" I fake a sniffle to draw in support from the jury. "I didn't mean to kill him, but it happened. Then, a pack of wolves came in and ate his body!"

"Objection!" the other attorney calls. The judge peers at him as if to say that he will have his turn in no time.

Jack snickers and turns back to me. "The cops came, right?"

"Yeah."

"And what happened then?"

"I got scared and said that he lived across the street."

"Well then. As you can see," he says, turned toward the jury, "she is a fearful creature who is probably needing of some rum. Thus, nothing is actually her fault."

The jury nod their heads, actually buying what Jack has said. I'm suddenly aware that I must be surrounded by idiots.

"No more questions!" Jack yells abruptly, allowing the other attorney to step forward.

He has a smug look to his face as he asks the first question. "Miss Belle, when did you and the beast first meet?"

"A year ago, after he imprisoned me in his dungeon and held me captive." He seems offset by the knowledge that the beast may not have been such a cuddly character, but carries on none-the-less.

"And, you married, correct?"

"Uh... Yeah," I shrug, hoping to get that over with quickly.

"And did you and the beast argue a lot?"

"Yeah," I smart, "Because he was pretty much a major dumb-ass."

He stares at me, "In...what way?"

"Well, he was just stupid and didn't listen to me."

"In what way, though?"

"Objection!" Jack cries out. "We're not going to get very far if you keep asking her that."

"Fine!" the attorney barks. "We'll cut to the chase. Belle, what happened the night of the beast's murder?"

"Objection—it was not a murder!"

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" he yelled.

"We fought and he tried to kill me and I pushed him and he died and I got scared and wolves came in," I say in one breath.

"How the bloody hell did wolves get in your house?" he asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "Beats me."

He exhales loudly and realizes that he's not winning. "Belle, is that how you killed him? Truthfully?"

"Objection! He thinks my client is a liar!"

"Would someone please remove that drunken pirate?!" the attorney screams.

"Objection! I am not a pirate!"

"But you _are_ drunk?" I ask.

He slants his eyes to the left and bites his left. "Maybe."

"Thanks," I yell, "You come to my trial drunk? Damn you Jack Sparrow!!!" I shake my fist violently at him as the court room disintegrates into loud talking and gossiping of what is to come. The judge rubs between his eyes as the attorney and Jack begin to verbally assault each other.

"You are a drunken pirate who does not deserve to be in this court room!"

"I am not a pirate, and you look stupid!"

The judge looks over at me as everyone is beginning to argue and fight. A chair suddenly flies across the room and the jury members are strangling each other. Turhoße stares at me.

"You did it, didn't you?" he asks below the noise of the fighting.

"Yeah."

He turns back to the fighting and doesn't bother to stop it. "Pay seven hundred dollars for the court appearance, and I'll sway the jury if we ever get out of here alive."

I'm somewhat shocked. "Done! But why?" 

"Do you seriously think that I want to be here?"

"Pff! I know I don't!"

"Done deal, then, I'll expect the money during the break."

"Hell," I say, taking out my checkbook. "I can give it to you now."

He peers over while I write. "It's Turhoße. Tur-HO-Seh. T-U-R..."

Meanwhile, I spy Jack using a sword against the attorney while the dresser is screaming such dreadful things. I roll my eyes at the mess and finish the check.

"Here." I toss it into his hands.

"Thanks," he mumbles with a smile. "By the way, what was your lawyer's name, again?"

"Jack. Jack Sparrow," I say. "Why?"

"Nothing, nothing!" he says. "Just looks awfully familiar! No worries, though. I'll check it during break—which is right about...NOW!" He bangs his gavel louder than a crack of lightning, and the crowd stops their fighting, some with their fists still halfway to faces.

"It's break. Jury, make some kind of decision." He leaves with them, and I hang out by Jack who is rubbing his elbow.

"Oh, hey, Belle! That attorney should be a pirate with that fight!"

The attorney is wrapping his leg with rags from the dresser and gives Jack the stink eye. Dresser straddles over to me with a grim expression.

"I hope you know," she says, "that this was not a fair trial, and there is no way that you should win after all of that nonsense."

"On the contrary," I say, "the entire trial was unfair, but not for me. I'm getting off."

"We'll see about that."

"Huh-oh! Yes we will!" I laugh.

After a few minutes, the jury walks back into the room with some demeanor of order. They sit neatly while I wait by jack for the verdict—though I'm not too worried about it.

"We the jury," a man announces, "Find Belle..."


End file.
